Azure and Silver
by ImBeautifullyHuman
Summary: The story of Katniss and Peeta and how they continue to grow and bond together. This is a one-shot following my other story, Trouble Sleeping.


**Azure and Silver**

**The story of Katniss and Peeta and how they continue to grow and bond together. This is a one-shot following my other story, Trouble Sleeping. This is in Katniss' voice to complement the Epilogue.**

**DISCLAIMER: Some sentences are paraphrased or lifted directly from the Epilogue of Mockingjay. I am not a professional writer. I do not own the Hunger Games trilogy or its wonderful characters, but wish I did. If I did, I'd have gotten rid of Snow and united our heroes a lot sooner. But, that's why Suzanne Collins is a rich woman and I'm writing fanfic! So, I'll just opt to finish the story my way. In a perfect world, we could overcome oppression and all retire to the countryside with a Peeta Mellark by our sides. Since that's not likely to happen, we will retell this story over and over again!  
**

* * *

**Five years after the wedding**

"_**It took five, ten, …"**_

**Azure**

I gather what I need from his art studio and tuck it away in the bathroom for later. I hate lying to Peeta, but this time it is absolutely necessary. Once he's gone to begin his day at the bakery, I begin prepping for dinner and picking up around our home. The last five years with him have brought me more joy than I could ever have imagined. We will never be what we were or could have been before the war. We've accepted that. We also accept that we are better _together_ regardless of the scenario.

I shower and dress, paying special attention to my skin. The years of Capitol-branded treatment have done well. The scars are still visible but have lost all their puffiness. I don't sunburn as easily as I used to, and neither does Peeta. Once my skin is dry, I set to work. When I'm done, I take a step back and look in the mirror. I didn't do half as bad as I thought I would. Peeta still finds me beautiful, no matter what's on my body. Our lovemaking has only intensified with familiarity. We fight, oh yes! But, we love just as fiercely. I let my hair air-dry instead of using the fancy blow dryer. Peeta likes the way it comes out curlier when I do this. I check myself one more time and smile at the person I see staring back at me. There was a time when I could not bear to do this, wanting to look away in hopes that I'd simply disappear. That seems so long ago.

I quickly dress in a comfortable, soft green dress that he's complimented me on more than once and head downstairs. The chiming of the kitchen clock tells me that he'll be home soon. I check on our meal of roasted lamb, new potatoes, salad, bread and gravy, remarking at how far my cooking skills have come in the last five years. Cooking became my savior on cold winter days when gathering was out of the question. With hunting no longer a necessity, I had to find ways to fight the depression that would descend upon me during those times. Trying new recipes out on Peeta, Haymitch and Sae kept me busy and gave me a way to take care of him instead of the other way around. I'll never be as good a cook as my husband, but I can make a fairly decent meal. I was nervous about the birthday cake, so I begged Sae to help me with it. She brings it over in the frenzy that is my day and leaves with a grin and a shake of her head.

I bake the cheese buns that he kneaded this morning, following his directions to a tee. I try hard to not let our anniversary overshadow his birthday. No matter how hard I try to make any occasion all about him, he always shifts the focus back to me. My favorite foods are his favorite foods. My favorite music quickly becomes his. I gave up a couple of years ago. Now I can scarcely remember where I end and he begins. It no longer matters. This evening is all about him, but I'll have to shift the focus for just a little while. I brew the iced tea and set the wine to chill.

He comes home tired but happy, wrapping me in a cloak of warmth that I never tire of. He's only grown more handsome with the passing of time. My heart clenches when I try to put into words how he makes me feel. I gasp when I think how long it took me to arrive to the point that I'd even consider marrying him. The thought that I'd grow accustomed to his presence only to have him ripped away from me was so paralyzing that it often rendered me immobile. His ever-present love has reminded me of the strength that comes from being bonded for life with another human being. '_The more love is shared, the more it grows_,' my father used to say. Unlike other things, sharing love never diminishes its quantity for the giver. And we have it in cargo loads.

We finish our dinner and head to his favorite place, our back porch, to watch the sunset. At times like this, we mostly sit in silence and just feel each other. Peeta strokes my hair as we rock the  
porch swing. The beating of his heart rests beneath my hand, bringing me a peace and serenity I couldn't have imagined without him.

"Happy Anniversary, love" I tell him as I plant a soft kiss on his lips. "and Happy Birthday." He breaks out in giggles. I stare in disbelief asking "What?"

He gives me a sheepish grin. "We are so corny!"

"Speak for yourself, Mr. Romance"

"No. I love it. Wouldn't have it any other way." He stares off at the mountains in the distance. "After all we went through, for the highlight of our day to be swinging on the back porch and belching up dinner…" He stops and shakes his head wistfully chuckling. "Who would've thought that such joy existed in such simplicity? Only with love is that possible. You made me the happiest man alive five years ago today. I still feel like it all just happened yesterday. Like I literally married you yesterday and we're just starting our honeymoon."

He raises my hand to his lips and gracefully kisses my knuckles. He still sends shockwaves through my body at the slightest touch. I don't know what it is or how he does it, but he's always made me grateful to have chosen life over giving up. The days when I would have gladly welcomed death are a distant memory, but close enough to make me appreciate what I have right here in front of me. His lips travel up the length of my arm as he makes the most obscene and vulgar noises, eliciting girlish giggles from me. He's the only one who has this effect on me. I'm able to relax, be silly, feel sexy and even girly when he's around. There's no feeling of vulnerability or distrust to compete with that.

He finds my mouth and I'm transported back to every kiss we've ever shared. Though we still act like two teenagers, this kiss takes on new meaning as I think of the crossroads we've navigated together. His lips soften against mine, gliding sweetly as he grips the back of my head. I make my way onto his lap and straddle him. The swaying of the large porch swing causes us to cling to each other. I feel his strong hands grip my hips to pull me forward. He lets out a breathy sigh against my mouth and looks at me with molten eyes. I pull away reluctantly.

"We'd better take this inside before Haymitch sees us. Last time he got nauseous."

We ascend the stairs to our bedroom with me wrapped around his hips, giggling all the way. He places me gently on our bed and kneels in front of me. His mouth is hot on my neck and shoulders in no time, making me want him even more. I feel the old familiar tingling at my center that never gets old. He reaches under my hiked-up dress and slides my underwear past my knees and to my feet. The one thing that's changed over the five years is the formality of asking the other what they'd like in the way of pleasure. We just _know_. I know his body like I know the layout of the meadow or my woods. I know all of its peaceful places to lay my head when I'm spent from a weary day. I know all of the nooks and crannies to find solace and comfort, as well as excitement and exhilaration.

I kick my thongs to the side and the look in his eyes rattles me. I know what I'm in for, yet my heart pounds as if I've never felt his tongue on me before. He grips my hips and slides them forward to the edge of the bed as his tongue dives into center, kissing me gently and reverently. I throw my head back and lean on my elbows as I let out the most guttural moan.

"Still beautiful" he mumbles into my skin.

I respond by dragging my fingers through his hair that has gotten a little too long lately. His eyes flutter closed in rapture as his tongue assaults me, revealing just how long his lashes are. He slowly slips his fingers into me, massaging me to pleasure until my body quakes around him. He's always been a sensual, patient lover. It's just another thing I love about my Peeta. Every time I look in his eyes, I'm reminded of why I fight so hard every day to remain in the present. He's worth it. He lovingly kisses the insides of my thighs as I come down from the euphoria that is him. I reach forward to unbutton his shirt and remove it so he can join me in my semi-nudeness. He leans over me and kisses me in anticipation of our sharing. Peeta likes to make me taste myself on his lips. I smile.

"You still taste heavenly."

I fight my nervousness and excitement as he reaches for the hem of my dress to pull it over my head. _Almost there_, I think.

"Katniss, what is this?" He looks up at me and I fight the emotions swirling around inside of me: ecstasy, anticipation, love. Realization slowly dawns on him as he sees what's there on my belly. I've painted an image of a little face, using my belly button as the nose. There's a little tuft of blond curls and eyes the color of blue drugstore paint.

He looks up from my stomach to my face and back again with this look of utter dumbfounded confusion. I wait for the light bulb to go on before I nod and smile. The tears starting to form in my eyes give my position away sooner than I'd anticipated. His expression begins to morph into something I can't place as his hand slowly and softly strokes my tummy. He's completely silent for a few seconds before looking up and saying suspiciously, "Katniss, why is there a face painted on your stomach?"

I continue to look at him suggestively, when finally he gets it.

"Really?!"

"Yes."

"No way!" he whispers.

"Yes!"

"Wha…when? How?"

"Happy anniversary, baby! I stopped my birth control shots a few months ago. We're having a baby."

That's when I see the tears. My strong, capable husband is reduced to a ball of emotion that is wrapped around my torso, clinging to me and crying tears of joy. I've seen Peeta shed tears but I've never heard him sob until now. It opens up a new place in my heart. He raises his head to me, with the look of a ten-year old pleading to not have his favorite toy taken away from him.

"Please tell me you didn't do this just for me."

"Peeta please don't ruin this! Besides, it's a little late for that."

"I'm serious."

"I love you, Peeta, so much, but you're really irritating me right now. If loving you makes me willing to challenge irrational fears, then I'm guilty."

"My, God, Katniss! I love you so much. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to be sure first. It didn't want to disappoint you. It seemed a shame to not create something that has us both living in it. Don't you think? You're so inherently good, Peeta, it wouldn't be right for you not to share blood with another person on this earth. We have to carry that on. I hope you don't mind that I decided this without talking to you first."

"Mind? No! I can't believe…I'm going to be a daddy?"

"The best…there is." I'm sobbing now and running my fingers through his hair.

"And you're going to be a wonderful mother, Katniss. Don't ever doubt that. This baby isn't just about me."

He starts kissing my abdomen, his hands clinging to my waist. Tear-smeared paint is all over his face and my body. The passion that gave way to joy is rising again. He slowly removes my dress the rest of the way and kisses his way up my body. My tummy. My breasts. My shoulders.

When his face is finally even with mine and we're staring into each other's eyes, I'm suddenly calm. All nervousness disappears, and I know the next seven months will be the same. He looks ridiculously cute with mussed up hair and paint smeared all over his face. He doesn't respond with words. His acceptance is spoken in the passionate love he bestows upon me. That night we make love with an intensity that rivals the night we proposed to each other; the same night we pledged to never leave each other again. And after, he says,

"It's going to be a girl."

"How can you be so sure?" I ask.

"I just know. And I hope she has your eyes."

"I hope she has your heart."

As a result, we always refer to the baby as '_her_'. _When I first felt her stirring inside of me, I was consumed with a terror that felt as old as life itself._Peeta stays constantly at my side. He attends every appointment, listens intently to the doctor's instructions, and lords over my every move. He tolerates my mood swings and rejoices in my growing belly. I put up with his hovering and reflect on how far we've come. His constant love reminds me that my dark days are not a sign of failure, but of my humanness. They are fewer and far between, but still present. I no longer shut him out. He simply holds me until the storm passes, and remarkably, they pass a lot sooner. It's for the sake of our little one that we carefully think through every action and reaction.

**Seven months later**

It's been two weeks since little Lily Azure made her debut. She came into the world so quietly that my breath caught in my throat, causing Dr. Patin to assure me that she was fine. I felt something new overtake my body as a wave of something unexplainable washed through me. _Only the joy of holding her in my arms could tame it_**…**the fear that grew right alongside her.

_How can I love someone I just met so much?_

This emotion feels foreign to me and I look at her with consternation as I try to place it. Peeta and Prim are the only two people who even came close to eliciting this from me. I know that he, Peeta, is the reason I was even able to let my walls tumble down enough be in this moment.

She has my dark hair, but that's where our resemblance ends. It's her father's crystal blue eyes and fair skin that give her an exotic quality.

"She's gonna be a real looker, boy." Grandpa Haymitch reminds us every chance he gets. Peeta simply responds with a look far too worried for the father of a 6-month old.

"Yeah, I know. That's gonna be a problem someday." I simply shake my head and laugh.

Over the initial months and years, she proves to also inherit her father's temperament and artistic ability, much to my delight.

"I prayed for a piece of you. Now I've got it." I tell him. "She's so much like you. The more love is shared, the more it grows."

The reversal in my logic still confounds me. By letting down my guard and loving Peeta, the very thing I feared losing the most, I've actually expanded his presence in my life. I've been blessed with a representation of his goodness in another soul. And they're both mine to love.

"She's the most exquisite thing I've ever seen…next to her mommy, of course." I just laugh and shake my head at the beauty and the sappiness of it all.

* * *

**Five years later**

_**"…fifteen years for me to agree."**_

**Silver  
**

"Mommy! Mommy! Grandpa Haymitch is at the door. Open it! Open it!" Lily bounces up and down like a little jumping bean.

"Ground yourself, little one. I'm coming." I place the final few items in the suitcase and waddle to the front door.

I can't help but notice how Haymitch's entrance to our home has changed in the last five years. I almost miss his unannounced sudden appearances, drunken stumbling and ready-made insults. There's no place for that around his Lily.

"I'm in complete Grandpa mode when she's around," he tells me. "Don't worry about a thing."

His white liquor rations last much longer than they used to. Lily is partly responsible for this. I know that there's another seldom-discussed reason, though, for his increasing soberness.

"Heeeeey, Lily Bug! Whatcha got there?" Lily bounces up and down again, waving a picture in front of him.

"It's a flower! An iris, just like Grandma Iris."

"And a beautiful flower it is." Haymitch eyes it adoringly. I don't think there's a thing she does that he doesn't find magnificent. Her drawings _are_ much more advanced than the average five-year old. He turns to me.

"Well, look at you. What the heck did you swallow? You're twice as fat as you were two weeks ago."

I give him my deadliest scowl since he knows I won't use profanity around Lily.

"Hey, we're gonna have an awesome time while mommy and daddy are at the hospital." He stoops down and whispers conspiratorially in Lily's ear, still allowing me to hear. "Personally, I can't wait to get rid of those two for a couple of days. I've been trying for years."

Lily covers her mouth and giggles silently.

"Peeta's on his way with the car. Remember, Haymitch, not too many sweets! I'm serious! You're the adult in this situation. Don't let the child dictate things. "

He looks down at Lily with one eyebrow cocked, "See what I mean?"

I ignore him, of course.

"My mom should be in right around bedtime. We've got a car waiting to bring her here so she doesn't have to walk."

This is the second time we're having a baby and Peeta's still nervous. I insisted on giving birth to Lily at home, but he was a wreck the entire time. I let him have his way with this one and opted for the delivery ward of our new hospital. Besides, I thought all the excitement in the house might not be good for Lily. This would be a chance for her to have all three of her Grandparents, Haymitch, Sae and my mom, to herself before her new brother arrives. My mom is coming into town on the evening train and Sae is preparing food to keep everyone fed while we're gone. Peeta and I respectfully asked that everyone just let us bring our baby into the world alone. We attract enough attention as it is, without travelling with an entourage. Besides, he'll have a lifetime of sharing us with others.

This moment is all about him. _Carrying him was a little easier, but not much_.

Peeta comes in, his hair tousled, signaling that he'd been nervously raking his hands through it. He's still sexy to me! The only signs of maturity on his face are the laugh lines along his eyes, accounting for a life lived with happiness.

"I asked the driver to wait outside. Where's Lily?" he asks me.

"She's in the kitchen drawing pictures with Haymitch."

"I want to kiss her and tell her she's still my sweet girl."

After Peeta says his goodbyes and assures Lily that she's not being replaced by the new baby, we head to the hospital to have our son.

Ryen Silver proves to be as much like me as Lily is like her father, and it doesn't just stop with the physical resemblance. He has blonde hair, grey eyes and tan skin, though not quite as tan as mine. His boundless energy, constant movement and inquisitiveness about everything in general make Peeta and me thankful that his sister is content to sit and focus on her latest creative endeavor. While Lily is free, open and friendly with everyone, Ryen is cautious, guarded and protective of those he loves. He loves the outdoors and climbs everything in sight. When Peeta tries to teach him to hold a paint brush, the scowl that takes over his face is almost comical.

"He is definitely _your_ son."

Today is our annual picnic to the meadow to celebrate the onslaught of spring and to honor those we've lost. Oh, sure, we come here more than once a year. But, this day is always special. We bring along our book and talk about their Grandparents, Auntie Prim, Uncle Bing and Uncle Barley. The meadow has been transformed to a historic park of sorts. Special attention went into building useful structures that naturally blend into the landscape. Thom appointed me head of the task force to get this accomplished, so this has a special place in my heart. My children call it _mommy's meadow_. _My children who take the words of the meadow song for granted_. _My children, who don't know they play on a graveyard._

We make our way down Primrose Lane to arrive at our favorite spot. _They play in the meadow. The dancing girl with the dark hair and blue eyes. The boy with the blond curls and gray eyes, struggling to keep up with her on his chubby toddler legs_. _It took five, ten, fifteen years for me to decide. But, I knew how badly Peeta wanted a family_. He never pressured me. His patient love and acceptance of me as I am…as I was…is the reason I stand on this peak today. _On some mornings, it feels impossible to take pleasure in anything because I'm afraid it could be taken away. __That's when I make a list in my head of every act of goodness I've seen someone do_, and every reason why I love their father. He is my parachute.

* * *

**In my version the "**_**five, ten, fifteen years"**_** refers to five years after the reaping, Katniss and Peeta get married. Ten years later, they have a daughter. Fifteen years after that, they have a son. I hope you enjoyed it.**


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